


Laugh

by aykayem



Series: Satisfaction [5]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only in movies did people get caught in freak rainstorms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Their excuse that evening was that they were wet already, and that it was just more expedient to shower with their clothes on than it was to have to strip off beforehand. Magnus had never been that big on sticking to societal norms anyway - probably something to do with the fact that he'd watched trends change a thousand times over - and Isabelle was always one to try new things. Besides, he was right: they were soaked to the bone from the freak rainstorm that had struck while they were out, and not even running back to his apartment could have saved them.

They'd tracked wet footprints in, letting water puddle on hardwood floors that would later make Magnus cringe, and had Chairman Meow wailing unhappily from the next room, hopping around each puddle in an attempt to find a dry path to a couch. It went completely unheeded over the sound of the shower running and Isabelle's laughter filling the small room.

"I told you this was better," Magnus said, grinning at her, his hands sliding around her waist, catching on the thin fabric of her shirt, plastered to the curves he practically had memorised. It was almost as good as having her naked before him, this semi-nudity. Her bra - pink, with copious quantities of lace - was visible through the shirt, her skirt clinging to her legs indecently. It would be enough to make a Victorian lady blush, he thought with a smirk, hands already pushing her shirt up her back, the water only serving to help slick the fabric away from her skin. "Now we're warm, and can focus on other things."

The inherent meaning behind his words wasn't missed by the oh-so-clever Isabelle, and she grinned at him, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck, no longer spiked but instead plastered to his head. Without her heels to help out, she had to lift herself up onto her tip-toes slightly to kiss him, though he leaned down to meet it, tipping his head to one side to better accommodate swallowing up the last few giggles that tore from her, shaking her shoulders delicately. The entire situation was sort of hilarious, he'd agree. Only in movies did people in almost-relationships get caught in freak rainstorms, running home with their fingers tangled as they laughed, the sound carrying above the pattering of the rain on the concrete beneath their feet. It was entirely too romantic, but he was all right with the odd romanticism. It would be hard to be as old as he was without picking up the odd romantic notion, after all.

And she did seem to love them, even as they took place with him stripping her shirt off, tossing it out onto the bathroom floor where it would be left in a sopping puddle, to be joined shortly by the rest of their clothing. She hooked both arms around his shoulders in a lazy gesture, leaning up and in to catch his mouth for a kiss; his hands traced over her back, catching briefly on her bra, fingers moving to unclasp it in the same movement. Her hands found his shirt, tugging upwards, and she only separated herself from the kiss when it came time to shimmying out of the rest of their clothing. His mouth found her throat, nibbling a line to her collarbone, his hand brushing thick black hair off her shoulder, the sound of the shower and her laughter the only things to fill the room.


End file.
